


time doesn't love you anymore

by keeks414



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Spoilers, beau dies but shes fine she comes back, for ep 26, i guess, molly tho lmao, tell me if i need to tag something, their friendship makes me happy and im so sad now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 16:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15343473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeks414/pseuds/keeks414
Summary: Beau dies and meets a long-lost friend.





	time doesn't love you anymore

**Author's Note:**

> title from Time by Mikky Ekko, i made myself cry enjoy

Beauregard opens her eyes to find herself engulfed in darkness. Then slowly, there's more light, faint, just barely there.

Then she sees the stars, two moons. Nothing else. Just enough light so she sees herself. Even then it doesn't feel right.

She is dead, she remembers. Its weird. Beau hadn't thought about death for a long time. They have grown so strong since the last time she truly faced death.

But there she is. Her memory is hazy and she can't quite remember what was it that killed her. It is too quiet and too dark. Beau hates it. She's not ready yet. _She's not ready-_

Then there's a figure in the distance. Faint, just like the moonlight. Her first instinct is to yell and tell it to fuck off, she doesn't belong here, she won't _stay_ here. But there is something familiar about it. And as it comes closer, yes, she recognises this person. It's been so long ( _too long, way too long, too soon)_ but Beau would recognise that smirk anywhere.

Despite the smirk, there's confusion in his eyes. “Beau?” And for fuck's sake, it's his voice, his annoying obnoxious voice and Beau has missed him _so_ much.

Of all the things she wanted to say and shout only a choked sob escapes her lips.

A quiet voice in her head whispers, how it could be an illusion, is she sure this is really Molly, their Molly, but Beau doesn't care about the truth for once. She clings to the tiny bit of hope and light she has in this dark place and lets herself have this. She hugs Molly and he feels real, like he's truly there, which is impossible because aren't they both dead now? Molly's arms are around her waist, his face resting on her shoulder, she can feel his horn scratch her cheek and Beau never thought she would welcome that ever in her life. Or death.

Its been so, so long. She's not quite sure how long, how many months, years. Some nights she thought about it, because Molly would want to be remembered. Other nights it hurt too much and she'd refuse to think about it and proceeded to just wish he was there so she could yell at him for making her feel so much. Beau never knew what to do with strong emotions and how to process them without yelling or punching. With time she'd gotten better at it but there was always this, this never got easier.

“You fucker,” she hears herself say, openly sobbing now. “You fucking idiot. You _died_.”

Molly snorts, because of course he does. It hits her that she's fond of it and maybe before this, before that snowy day she never forgot, she would have hated it. “I've been dead for quite some time now, you jerk.”

Since his head is still on her shoulder she can feel him crying too and it makes her feel a bit better. A little less alone.

“Are you really here?” he asks. “Huh. You don't seem like a person who dies, Beau.”

She attempts to punch him in the shoulder. It's not really a punch, to do that she'd have to let go of him and somehow that thought is horrifying.

“Fuck off,” she says. “Why are you here? Have you been here all the time? Am I really dead?” she feels panic growing in her chest and distinctly she's embarrassed that she's shaking. “I don't wanna _die_ , Molly. It's too soon, it's not _fair_.”

Arms around her tighten, not really helping since she's already finding it hard to breathe. Which doesn't make any sense because she's fucking dead.

“Fuck if I know, do I seem like a person who knows things?”

“You're such an ass, you obnoxious piece of shit.”

“I know! I've missed you,” he says. It hurts, in any other circumstances Beau would make fun of him but right now it just hurts.

“Okay, I lied.” Molly adjusts his head so his horn doesn't bump into Beau's cheek so much. “I know one thing. You're very much dead now, but they'll bring you back. Just hang on a bit.”

Beau snorts. “You can't know that.”

“Oh but I do. Come on. Do you really think they'd let you stay dead?” he sighs. “Jester will make sure you're fine. They all will.”

There's a sting of tears in her eyes. Beau fucking hates all about this. “I'm sorry,” she sobs. “I'm so sorry we couldn't bring you back. We tried-”

“That's different,” he interrupts her. “There was nothing you could do. And it's fine. It was worth it.”

_It really wasn't_ , is what she wants to scream at him. _It's so fucking unfair. It was so early, we didn't have enough time. You didn't have enough time._

“I kept your disgusting coat,” is what comes out instead.

“You did?” Molly sounds surprised and delighted, she feels his smile against her shoulder. “I'm glad. I bet you look horrendous in it.”

There's so much Beau wants to tell him. She wants to tell him that she doesn't actually wear his coat but still always has it with her, sometimes uses it at a pillow. That she cut a part of it and wears it around her wrist. That Nott took his rings and how those are the only ones she never lost. Fjord kept one of his swords, doesn't use it in battle because it's a fake fucking sword, but he kept it all the same. She never mentions any of the times she's caught him sitting on the bed and staring at the damn thing. Jester still has his cards and sometimes she and Beau play that stupid game he taught her. She kept his horn jewelry, too. Caleb hangs on to the necklace, stupid thing that didn't help when it truly counted. She wants to tell him how Yasha sometimes sits beside the fire and looks through her book, how she always stops on the same page with the clover and a the fake flower Molly gave her. And if she has the most purple flowers in there, Beau never mentions that either. She wants him to know that they will always remember him, that he will always be a part of their weird little family. She wants to tell him she considers him her family.

Beau tells him none of it, voice simply not leaving her mouth. Somehow she's sure he knows anyway.

It feels like there's no time, like something is coming, ending. And it's so, so unfair, how they never seem to have enough time, not even in death.

Molly puts his hands on her face and kisses her forehead. “Brighten up, unpleasant one.”

Beau kind of wants to punch him. She hugs him tighter instead.

There's more light. This time way too bright, coming from one spot and it looks like something she's supposed to go through, to come back. Beau hates it. It looks way too much like from some bullshit story for kids.

“Told you they'll get you back,” Molly's grinning, she can hear it in his voice. She hates it when he's right.

There's a soft pat on her back. “You have to let go of me,” it's barely a whisper. Slowly, Beau lets go and shoves a middle finger in his face. There are tears in his eyes and down his cheek. He laughs and fuck, she really did miss that sound.

“I'll see you again?” she asks, almost pleads.

Molly shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

“Fucker.” Beau turns around and starts walking towards that dumb exit.

“Hey, asshole,” his figure is disappearing now, but his voice is still clear. “If I ever see her, I'm telling Yasha you cried.”

It's kind of dumb since he's crying just as much. But there's a bit of desperation in Molly's voice and Beau's pretty sure they're both just trying to buy some more time.

“Fuck you, Molly.”

“Fuck you too, Beau.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i just thought this would be fun but it really wasnt, sorry if i fucked up the characters/language, thank you for reading<3


End file.
